Over and Over
by Hiddeninyoureyes
Summary: It is not true that life is one damn thing after another...It's one damn thing over and over. House had said that to him once. Wilson didn’t want to believe it but when he looked back over the years he saw why House had said it.


**A/N: This is my first House fan fic, I'm very nervous about this but I think I've done it justice. It is in Wilson's point of view, each section is a different point of time.If youareconfusedwhy the words pain are highlighted all withbecome clear.I hope you like this and please review to tell me what you think:) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the House production no matter how much i stamp myfeet and cry!**

* * *

"It is not true that life is one damn thing after another...It's one damn thing over and over."

House had said that to him once. Wilson didn't want to believe it but when he looked back over the years he saw why House had said it.

Glancing at House through the glass Wilson stopped and watched his friend stare at a photo in his hand, it took his breath away seeing the amount of** pain** written all over House's face.

He shouldn't have been surprised. It's all he ever really sees now.

* * *

When House was wheeled in from the ambulance screaming in agony, writhing against the restraints, his severely bloodshot eyes abnormally wide open as he was transported to a hospital bed, Wilson had dropped all the folders he had just been filling in and ran up to catch the gurney, following it through the double doors. He caught House's eyes with his andkept himconscious all the way. The image of House on that bed in such **pain** burnt into his mind forever.

* * *

After House had finally got out of hospital it had been tough. Getting House into the apartment took all of Stacey's and Wilson's strength. House had refused to sit in a wheelchair. Stubborn jackass. He complained all the way to the couch only shutting up when he fell straight to sleep as soon as his head hit the arm of the sofa.

Wilson had wanted to cry that day. Whether from exhaustion of the last month or whether it was seeing his best friend like this he didn't know. Probably a bit of both.

But he didn't.

He stayed strong, He had to stay professional, checking House's vitals every 2 hours, making sure he ate and drank, giving him his **pain** medication when it was due and only then. It was the 3rd day of looking after House that Wilson knew the charade would have to stop, he would need to become more than House's physician.

The screaming. The words shared between those two made him stand in the kitchen frozen in fear. Not for himself or Stacey, House had a strong voice and it bounced off the apartment walls with extreme force when he shouted but that wasn't what scared him.

House was having a breakdown. Stacey had admitted she was leaving him.

As selfish as it was, Wilson was furious with Stacey more because she was leaving him to practically keep House alive.

It had been 2 hours since then; Wilson's back ached from sitting against an uneven wall. The front door had just slammed close shaking the whole apartment, now there was just silence.

Wilson had not gone into the room to comfort House, he knew his friend well enough to know he would not want that. So he just stood in the doorway, watching his friend sit hunched over, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. One of Wilson's most unruly urges was to scream at House to just let it out, to just cry in front of somebody and tell them what has upset him. But he wouldn't dare.

He just watched, at that doorway, his best friend breakdown from all the **pain** he has had to suffer recently. Wilson didn't notice his own cheeks were becoming wet aswell.

* * *

After 5 years, House was finally able to go back to work. They had both gone through the last 5 years and come out alive with only a few minor stratches of their relationship that would heal in time. House was still in **pain**, and though he had learnt to deal with it, it still got to him sometimes that it would be there forever.

Those 5 long years had been the beginning of Wilson's own **pain**. Guilt. He couldn't decide whether physical **pain** was really as bad as emotional **pain**, he prayed that he never found the answer like House had.

He hadn't even really noticed the increase of medication he was giving House. After a year, he had given House control of when to take his meds, he wasn't a child and Wilson didn't think he would do anything stupid anymore.

Boy was he wrong.

The scripts for the pharmacy sitting on his desk where disappearing every week, a lot of them he realised with;

_**Gregory House**_

**_36 20mg Vicodin _**

**_Dr James Wilson M.D,_**

He had tried to get rid of the guilt by putting House secretly on a Detox, never telling House it was his idea. But seeing House in that much **pain** was torture also for him aswell as House. It's what led to the heated argument after the week was up. Wilson wasn't really angry at House, he was angry at himself for not stopping this addiction before it became too much. But he hadn't. He had given up. He walked out just like he wanted to do 5 years ago.

He was no better than Stacey.

Life continued on, they put the detox week behind them and Wilson never tried to confront House again.

He probably would of if he had known that in the future House would start shooting morphine.

House had been right, Wilson concluded when he turned slowly and walked back to his lonely office. Life was just one thing over and over.

Pain.


End file.
